


A Thread's Strength

by Kalira



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, BAMF Umino Iruka, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Red String of Fate, Rescue, Soulmates, Zine: Intertwined - A KakaIru Zine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28559337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira
Summary: When Iruka's Thread wavers severely enough to put him in fear for his soulmate, he resolves to handle things himself - his Thread will lead the way to Kakashi, and Iruka has always excelled creatively in a tight spot.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Comments: 13
Kudos: 202
Collections: KakaIru Zine: Intertwined





	A Thread's Strength

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the KakaIru zine Intertwined, with the theme 'red string of fate', last year! It's on [Tumblr](https://kkirzine.tumblr.com/) & [Twitter](https://twitter.com/kkirzine), and you can check out some of the other works there and in the collection here on AO3!

Iruka was in class the first time he noticed it. His hand raised to the board, his attention more on his class behind him than the chalk in his hand or the diagrams he was laying out for them when the slender sweep of crimson- _flickered_.

His hand didn’t stutter only by dint of his long experience keeping himself - and his class - under control through anything. The Thread trailing away from his hand faded into little more than a softly-silvery shadow, then flared back to crimson like blood after only a moment. He swallowed against the lump in his throat, stilling for a moment, eyes fixed on the bright Thread, then turned to face his class with an expectant smile, his lecture continuing even as his thoughts raced down a very different path.

Though it wavered, Iruka’s Thread remained that comfortingly rich red, and he steadied his heart - it wasn’t the _first_ time, he had all but lost count of the number of times since he was old enough to notice that his Thread had wavered, risked a Fade. He kept teaching, centring himself and giving his class his proper attention again.

By the time he released them at the end of the school day, Iruka’s Thread was still remaining red, but now a faintly paler shade. It _trembled_ from time to time, faintly where it wound around his finger and more strongly where it lead off towards Kakashi, wherever he was.

He should be on his way back - should have _been_ back, he was over a week late - and their Thread promised he would be in poor condition when- when he made it. Iruka swallowed tightly as he walked home, dredging up a bright smile from somewhere as he brushed off Raidou’s invitation to join him and some other friends for drinks.

Once he was home and out of sight Iruka’s smile twisted and he worried his lower lip between his teeth. He unpacked his marking across his desk but didn’t take his eyes off his Thread, which still wavered in unsteady pulses, paling further. He. . . He didn’t even know where Kakashi had gone, what his mission had entailed, he thought with a faintly despairing twist in his stomach. There would be those who did, of course, but even with the Thread . . . well, no one _else_ could see it, and Iruka’s worry. . .

Well.

Iruka frowned, jaw set. No one else would know, quite probably even if Iruka took it higher the Hokage wouldn’t wish to take Iruka’s worry for anything but a - lower-ranked and generally village-bound - lover fretting over a jounin who was frequently delayed regardless. . .

Iruka would just have to handle it himself, then.

Half an hour later, in the gathering dusk, Iruka slipped easily out of Konoha, going over the wall unseen, following the shimmery crimson line of his Thread - praying it remained crimson.

It wasn’t difficult to follow, even as the shadows grew deeper around him, and Iruka knew the forests around his village well. His steps were sure and silent, his heart beating just a little too quick as he ran, senses attuned to anything out of place - or for any sign of one probably injured, no doubt exhausted, skinny jounin with moon-pale hair.

Iruka slowed as he found a sprung trap, signs of explosive tags and a wide spray of shuriken lodged in branches. It was very close to Konoha’s walls for there to have been a battle . . . a battle that looked from these signs to have been a quick skirmish ending with no one downed, though there were a few splashes of blood.

Iruka proceeded carefully, following his Thread and keeping watch. He spotted the foreign nin before they noticed anything, and a quick jutsu hid him against the trunk of the tree he perched in. A flicker of chakra sent out with a wave of soft clicks and an additional pulse of it to his ears brought him a perfect echo-map of the small group . . . and the few more people further out, one ahead of the others. One running, the others giving chase. They were moving too quick to get a clear image in the echoes, but. . .

Iruka’s eyes narrowed, and he glanced at his Thread - leading off in the direction the others were racing; all but confirming his suspicions - then closed them as he sent out another wave of clicks. He snorted as he ‘watched’ the nin below struggle with a clinging fire vine. Iruka had been teaching his students how to safely handle fire vines a week ago; these nin were going to regret their rough handling of the plant as they tried to escape its clutches. If they lived long enough for the vine’s signature fiery sting to set in fully.

The forests of Hi no Kuni might be lush, but they were not _welcoming_ to the unwary.

Slipping around the group, Iruka paused only long enough to leave a _surprise_ for them; he grinned as he bent the trigger into place with a touch of chakra, then moved on. If they were cursing at the fire vine _now_ , let them try a taste of the concentrated oils of the plant delivered by an explosive rush, the true purpose of which would be easily obscured by the accompanying senbon he’d set to fly in a wide arc.

Iruka was quick and, unlike the nin hounding Kakashi, he was more than comfortable moving through the dense, towering forest, even in the dark. It was almost easy for him to pick them off in quickly-laid traps, or when he had split their forces, even by carefully contained one-on-one ambushes. It only grew easier as night deepened - and they grew ever more uneasy, losing contact with one another.

Flickering echoes of chakra combined with Iruka’s familiarity with the forests of his home country and his steps were sure even as he darted through the branches, seeking out the perfect place for another trap. There seemed to be only one enemy nin remaining, and taking them out with a trap might be more difficult. Herding them with several, however. . .

Iruka worked quickly, fingers flying through the familiar task, but paused as one returning pulse of an echo-map practically lit up in Iruka’s mind. There was a very familiar slouched figure tucked at the base of a tree not far off, in the direction his Thread trailed away . . . and the shape of another approaching Kakashi. Iruka left the trap he’d been preparing as it was, worry tugging at him, and rose, turning to follow his Thread.

Kakashi was awake and waiting for the nin approaching him, weapon in hand, but he wasn’t moving, either to evade or to attack. It kept the enemy nin’s approach slow, however, wary of Kakashi, and that gave Iruka an opportunity - the nin wasn’t watching his back.

Iruka spooled out his thinnest chakra wire, ghosting through the trees and crossing the clearing well out of sight. His lips twitched as his Thread floated up and across between the men below, following his movements, but only Kakashi would be able to see _that_. He didn’t react visibly.

Iruka dropped low and pulled the wire taut, hard and fast, and it snapped up into place, taking the enemy nin in the throat. He went down and didn’t get back up.

Iruka only spared a glance to be sure of him before darting to Kakashi’s side as he let the blade he’d been holding fall to the earth.

“Iruka.” Kakashi said, warm with relief and thin with shock.

Iruka smiled and twined their fingers gently, their Thread dipping loosely between them, its crimson reassuringly bright. “Hello, love.” he returned, bowing his head to rest their brows together. He squeezed Kakashi’s hand. “You have been making me fret all day.”

Kakashi whined softly, nudging their noses together, and Iruka raised their hands, the Thread trailing off in a twisted loop below. “No matter how many times it happens. . .” He shook his head, thinking of the alarming paling of his Thread.

“I’m sorry, koibito.” Kakashi said quietly, and Iruka cupped his jaw, kissing his cheekbone just over the edge of his mask.

“Are you injured?” Iruka asked, running his fingers over Kakashi’s side.

“A few scrapes.” Kakashi shook his head, lifting his right arm and displaying a shallow gash along the outside of his forearm. “I’m just exhausted.”

“Of course you are.” Iruka said, holding back a sigh, inspecting the injury. That was nothing new, unfortunately - it seemed as though Kakashi was drained and suffering chakra exhaustion at least every other time he returned to Konoha. Sometimes not even making it through the gates on his own two feet. “Well, you’re almost home now.”

“I am home.” Kakashi said softly, and Iruka lifted his head to meet his lover’s gaze, startled. Kakashi lifted his hand, the backs of his knuckles brushing Iruka’s cheek. “You’re here, koibito.”

Iruka felt his cheeks warm, but only shook his head slightly. He clasped Kakashi’s hand and kissed his wrist, just past his glove. “Let’s get you back into the village.”

“I’m sorry I worried you.” Kakashi said mournfully as Iruka drew back, moving to climb to his feet, slow and stiff. Iruka helped him, and kept hold of his hand as he made it up.

“You always are.” Iruka said quietly. Kakashi’s expression twisted - he looked _wrecked_ \- and Iruka kissed him lightly through his mask. “Hush, love. Just come with me.”

Kakashi may have been weak with exhaustion, but he was all too skilled at working past that - he kept up with Iruka with little trouble as they returned to Konoha. Iruka paused as they reached the road, glancing back at Kakashi; he met Iruka’s gaze with a pitiful, longing look Iruka suspected was not actually intentional. This time, anyway.

Iruka hesitated only a moment longer, then drew his lover onwards, across the road rather than down it, heading for the wall. It would have been easy to go through the gates, logging Kakashi’s return with the guards as per protocol, but if they took that route Kakashi would be expected to go immediately to sign himself in properly, perhaps give his preliminary report, visit the hospital. . .

No. Kakashi was well enough he needed rest more than anything, and Iruka wanted his lover with him at least as much as Kakashi wished to stay. Iruka led him over the wall - offering a little help Kakashi was graceful if sulky about needing - and directly to his own apartment.

Iruka felt the tremor running through his lover the moment the door closed, the seal etched into both the door and the frame completing once more and activating with a soft pulse of stored chakra. He turned-

“Thank you.” Kakashi said softly, pressing against his back, stopping him from turning, arms wrapping around his waist. Iruka glanced down at where their Thread looped from their hands and smoothed his palm over Kakashi’s forearm, the narrow strip of skin visible between his sleeve and glove.

Then he squeezed Kakashi’s hand gently, rubbing one fingertip over their Thread just where it disappeared into Kakashi’s glove. “Of course, love. Come on, let me look after you.” He waited until Kakashi’s embrace loosened, then tugged his lover further into his apartment, nudging gently.

Kakashi pouted again when Iruka would have left him to his bath, so Iruka settled on the floor and stayed with him, their hands clasped over the edge of the bath. He wove their Thread around and around their fingers and back again, talking of unimportant things as Kakashi came down from the tension of an exhausting mission. Kakashi didn’t speak as he climbed out of the bath, but the tight clasp as he twined their fingers spoke clearly.

They shared a simple meal and then Iruka pulled Kakashi up and brought him to bed before he could fall asleep there on the couch. Iruka didn’t even try to tuck him in alone, settling in cosily beside him with a sigh; it had been a long day and Iruka was more than ready for rest as well.

“Thank you, koibito.” Kakashi said almost into his collarbone, and Iruka drew him in closer, rubbing a hand up and down his back, gently squeezing the nape of his neck. He fell asleep about as quickly as Iruka had expected - here, safe, held snugly in Iruka’s arms - and he smiled under his lover’s weight as Kakashi went lax, breathing deepening.

Iruka lifted his hand to stroke Kakashi’s hair, then paused, admiring the brilliant crimson sweep of his Thread where it trailed down from his finger. Iruka smiled, his heart warm and his chest tight and achy. He lowered his hand again and cuddled Kakashi closer for a moment, trying not to disturb his lover but needing to really _feel_ him.

Kakashi murmured softly in his sleep, slurred and unintelligible, soft mouth warm against Iruka’s shoulder. He laughed quietly and shifted his shoulders, settling more comfortably. He slowly stroked his hand up and down Kakashi’s back, feeling his heart beat in rhythm with his lover’s and occasionally stealing a glance at the bright Thread that linked them.


End file.
